


Sweet Shavasana

by Corinne K (Corinne_K)



Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff without Plot, M/M, Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 05:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17781443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corinne_K/pseuds/Corinne%20K
Summary: Recently retired Rin Matsuoka looks for a place to stretch his muscles and relax his mind. He didn't expect to end up more relaxed than he probably should...





	Sweet Shavasana

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentines day!!  
> This is pure fluff and silliness.  
> Enjoy!

Iwatobi. The name itself made him yawn.

At twenty eight, Rin wondered if this was it. Retiring, returning home, settling, telling himself that three Olympics were far more than he could have hoped for when he left this place, be content, forget.

The last six months in Sydney had mentally drained him. He had always known that his body couldn’t perform at top form forever, but throughout his career he had taken all precautions he could, holding back, preserving himself, listening to the trainers, sleeping and eating well, hoping, hoping…

There was a park behind his old elementary school, with a playground and some trees. A group of five kids, preschoolers maybe, were making a racket, racing each other around the yellow slide. He felt the phone vibrate in his pocket.

_Yo. How’s it going home boy? Still looking for a place to down your dog?_

Sousuke. If there was ever a constant in Rin’s life was his goofball of a best friend. Before his mind could supply a snarky answer to that, involving dogs facing down or whatever, he remembered what his trainer had said - that if he wanted to have a pain free rest of his life, he needed to take care of his shoulder and that meant rest, physiotherapy and appropriate stretching and strengthening. He had the first two covered, but he was still to find something remotely similar to a yoga or Pilates studio in good old Iwatobi. So he called back.

“Yo,” Sousuke answered almost immediately.

“Hey. So... where did you find this hidden gem?”

His friend laughed on the other side.

“Well, don’t expect much. It’s a friend of a friend - Makoto, you remember him, right? The backstroke guy...”

“He’s teaching yoga?”

“No, he’s a swimming coach. His friend teaches yoga.”

“Who? The loud one? Or the four eyes?”

“None of those... look, you want to check it out or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, why not. Text me.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks Sou.”

“Anytime.”

* * *

 

The place was inconspicuous even for Iwatobi standards - a two story building near the train station, away from the port and the scenic spots. The ground floor was occupied by a bicycle workshop and the studio could be reached by an outdoor staircase.

_Yoga Free!_ said the plate at the entrance.

What a strange name. If you invert the words it means that you don’t have to pay. What kind of idiot would pick a name like that?

The answer to that question was sitting cross legged inside the small studio, facing away from the door and towards a small altar by the window. It was composed of a strange assortment of objects - a toy boat, a Buddha statue, a glass bowl with water, prayer beads, a piece of net - artfully arranged on top of a small foldable table. The hardwood floor gave the place a surprisingly cosy atmosphere, and the smoke that lazily drifted from a chunk of palo Santo created a mystical aura.

Rin stood in silence by the door, wondering if it was ok to talk. Was the man in some kind of trance, still as he was? He cleared his throat. Nothing. Maybe he should leave, but Sousuke had gone through the trouble of finding him a yoga studio, and he actually needed it...

“H-hi...” he tried.

There was a deep intake of air, then the slightest movement, a flutter of fingers, and the man was standing up. Rin took a few steps in, the man swivelled on his bare feet.

“You’re early.”

_Blue. Electric blue. Wait, is that a song? Who the hell has those eyes in Japan?_

“P-pardon?”

“The class is in 15 minutes. I was meditating.”

The man made no effort to conceal the annoyance in his tone.

“I’m sorry.”

“No problem. You can wait there.”

The nimble hand pointed at the floor. Was he supposed to just sit there for 15 minutes?

“Wait! What kind of class?”

The peculiar instructor paused his movement. He seemed to be heading out the door.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what kind of yoga. I’m recovering from an injury. I should start slow. Maybe a bit of hatha, even ashtanga if you don’t make me plank for too long.”

He’d done yoga on and off in Sydney. It’s not like he was a complete novice. He’d dressed for the occasion too - tank top and black leggings, with running shorts for modesty, because - Japan... But this guy looked nothing like the typical Lululemon-wearing, coconut water-drinking health freak. If anything, he looked pretty normal.

“If you’re injured you can’t practice.”

He really didn’t have time or patience for this. “Look, I have been cleared by physio. I’m ok, I’m just not ok enough to do what I do.”

Blue eyes squinted.

“I’m a professional swimmer. The injury is on my shoulder. I _can_ do yoga, as I said, if it’s not too crazy… So that’s why I asked what kind of class.”

“I only teach yoga,” the guy deadpanned, as though Rin had said something stupid, but then continued, “those names are like brands, they just make you spend more money. Anyone can do yoga, at their own level.”

“Ok, right…” He wasn’t sure he got the point of the whole lecture but the guy sounded a bit like a commie now, and Rin definitely hadn’t signed up for that. “So, can I do the class?”

“We’ll see.”

* * *

 

A few minutes later the other attendants began to pour into the small studio. There were a couple of ladies in their forties, a few younger women, local office workers perhaps, and only one other guy, who seemed like some sort of depressed NEET. They all took their places sitting cross legged on the mats that the guy had spread out on the floor. Some promptly closed their eyes. The instructor, who had been wearing normal street clothes during their interaction, now appeared in royal blue harem pants and… a black crop top? And hell that was a good six pack he had going on... but then Rin’s attention got drawn to the patterned head band that held his black hair back, giving full exposure to the electric blue eyes. It was… attractive … in a ridiculous, hippie sort of way.

The guy - whose name Rin now was a bit more motivated to find out - sat down in half lotus (yes, Rin still remembered a bit of his yoga) and closed his eyes. No one uttered a word, but when he began to hear a collective deep intake of air, he knew that the class had started. A second later the whole room was vibrating with a homogenous sound. They went at it twice more. He joined in then, slowly exhaling and chanting “om”. After that, eyes still closed, all joined their hands and said “namaste”. He was starting to understand what this place was all about.

They followed that introduction with some easy stretches on the floor, the instructor dropping the names of the poses and everyone mimicking his movements without hitch. It was probably a group of regulars. Rin had spent enough time as an athlete to know all his body’s nooks and crannies, so he followed without problem, even if he didn’t know most of the names. When something seemed a bit strange, he would just take a peek to the side and copy the movement. With that, he also understood that part of the lecture about doing yoga at your own level: he saw that some legs opened wider than others, some torsos bent more, others less - the NEET guy, for example, being nowhere near being able to touch his toes - but everyone seemed to be quietly enjoying their time there.

“Surya namaskar,” was the new instruction, which got everyone on their feet.

It turns out that the movements were all familiar, perhaps the only sequence he could remember well enough from the classes back in Sydney. It was the sun salutation. He was concerned about the planking part, because of his shoulder, so he told himself he would go easy and undo the pose if it started hurting. His eyes were following the woman in front of him, in case they were doing any variation, so he didn’t notice the instructor as he materialised next to him, until he almost swatted his face when his arms came down from the back stretch to the forward bend.

“S-sorry!”

“Where’s your injury?” he asked, ignoring the apology.

“Left rotator cuff.”

“I see. Copy me.”

The instructor stood next to him and they went through the back bend again, but after the forward bend - which he executed easily, he had always been flexible - instead of plank, he was led into all fours. He had been following the instructor’s breathing patterns (and sneaking glances at the in and out of his delightfully ripped stomach), so he figured out the counting easily. It matched what the others were doing, so when Rin was done with his cat/cow, everyone moved to down dog… and that’s when Rin almost lost it. The instructor had moved even closer, hip pressed to the side of Rin's thigh, hands holding his waist on both sides, lifting up pressure from his shoulders, leaving only the pleasant back and hamstring stretch. Rin was obviously used to being manhandled by trainers and physios, but this somehow felt more intimate. A shiver ran down his spine.

“Is this ok?” The deep baritone was close to his ear now that he had followed the motions and was arching his back with arms raised above his head.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

They repeated the sequence a few more times. He managed to keep his cool now that he expected that strong pillar of a leg grounding him, and those cool hands holding him. Then, they went into warrior variations and, later, some balancing positions. It was not exactly tough, but he was working up a sweat, and felt nicely stretched _everywhere_. Pose after pose, he kept going and he had no idea of the time, just that they had been there for a while.

When the instructor announced something called “Shavasana” in his flat tone, he prepared for another pose, another small gratifying challenge… but everyone just began to lie down, sprawled on their backs. The instructor went to draw the curtains and they were left in semi darkness. When the next instructions came, they were not in the form of weird Sanskrit names anymore, but a string of simple instructions.

“Feet and toes, relax…” he began, and went through each part of the body, starting at the bottom, each time uttering the same order - “relax”. It was strange how it really worked. Every time he summoned a body part and told it to relax, he felt a heaviness that was not there before, as though the earth was pulling him into her depths. He began to feel hazy and very, very soft, and the deep voice was no longer saying words, but caressing his skin with velvet hands. It felt really nice.

* * *

 

A key moved in the lock. Rin rubbed his eyes. “Hmm?” Where was he? What time was it? The surface beneath his body was rubbery, his hands spilling into hard wood, but he was warm, covered by a fluffy blanket. He opened his eyes to find a pair of bare feet blocking his field of vision. He looked up and saw the rest of the body attached to the feet - blue harem pants, torso now covered by a loose cardigan, and a frown painted in blue.

“Gahh!” He jumped. “Shit, I fell asleep!”

A little bemused grin replaced the frown.

“How long have I been here?”

“A few hours I suppose.”

Hours. He cringed. Outside, the street lights had already been turned on, shedding golden reflexes along the wooden planks.

“I’m so sorry. I had a long flight yesterday and I couldn’t really sleep...”

“It’s ok. I’m glad you got the chance to rest.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah,” he smirked. “It means I did my job the way I should.”

“Oh.”

Rin finally mustered the resolve to get on his feet. That’s when he remembered there was something else he wanted to know. “I didn’t get your name...”

“You didn’t ask.” That caught him off guard, but it was apparently a joke, because the other one immediately added, “Nanase Haruka. Call me Haru.”

“Haru.” With the whole namaste vibe going on, he was expecting something more exotic, starting with “guru” or something.

“You?”

“Me?”

“Your name...”

Oh God. Could he ever be more daft?

“Matsuoka Rin. Call me Rin.”

“Well Rin, I need to close the studio, so...”

“Oh, of course!” He gathered his duffel bag and water tumbler and made it almost to the exit when it dawned on him, “do you live nearby? I’m driving. I mean, I have my mom’s car downstairs. I could drop you off.”

Haru gave him a sideway look. Maybe it was the wrong move. Did Haru have a going home ritual? Was he intruding even more?

“I live near Tajiri shrine.”

“That’s kind of far.”

“It is.”

“Do you accept my ride then?”

* * *

 

Haru was quiet in the car. His whole aura was that of a hermit, but he emanated something peaceful, contemplative. Rin was starting to like it.

“The altar in your studio, it seemed very eclectic...”

“So you noticed...”

He hummed and Haru continued. “I have an affinity with water, and Iwatobi is, well, right by the water, so I always keep in mind how precious water is to our life, but also how harsh it can be and I pray for those that make a living out of it.”

The air literally stopped in his lungs.

“Is everything ok?” Haru asked.

“Yeah, yeah, it is.”

Rin dropped Haru off as close as he could to the narrow stairway that led to his home.

“See you next week?”

“I teach every day, at the same time. You can come whenever. I’ll have to charge you, though.”

“Of course,” he flushed.

Haru chuckled as he opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle. He peeked inside, face playful and oh so youthful.

“Oh, and next time, Rin... you can bring your own pillow.”

He was still dumbfounded when he undid the hand break and the car began to roll down the narrow lane. Was that a wink?

He drove home humming old tunes, reminiscing about the past, musing about his new life.

 

Iwatobi. The name itself made him smile like a fool.


End file.
